Oh Baby
by Seraphic Brat
Summary: Seventh year at Hogwarts, and an innocent practical joke in Potions goes quite wrong. Harry has to take care of Draco for a whole day, but the Slytherin's not quite his usual self...
1. Baby Dragon

((Note - This was inspired by a Gundam Wing fic series I read a loong time ago. I thought I'd give it a bit of a HP twist. and since it's my second fic ever, comments are quite appreciated. Please note: due to my inner oddness, this could get slashier later on. Consider yourself warned. Enjoy. ~Solo))  
  
Icy drafts whipped through the dungeon that served as the Potions classroom. The walls were still hung with rusty chains, dire reminders of darker days. However, the chamber presently echoed with the chatter of students working in pairs to brew an Aging Potion. As usual, the class was divided: Slytherins on one side of the room, smirking at the annoyed Gryffindors on the other.  
  
Draco was busy sipping from a flask he had concealed beneath his robes, breaking the rule of 'No food or Drink in the Classrooms'. Naturally, Snape didn't appear to notice, Harry thought in annoyance. Had it been me, he would have taken 500 points from Gryffindor or some such thing. His brooding thoughts were interrupted by a nudge from his best friend.  
  
Ron had apparently caught sight of Malfoy's disregard for the rule as well, for his eyes twinkled mischievously, much like his brother Fred's used to when playing a prank. What a great way to pay the Slytherin back for tripping him in the Great Hall this morning.  
  
Nudging Harry, the redhead whispered "How d'you reckon Malfoy will look with a nice blondie beard?" Dipping a spoon into his cauldron, Ron managed to pour a good-sized spoonful of the Aging Potion they were brewing into Draco's momentarily unguarded flask. Harry could hardly hide his grin as he watched Malfoy turn back around, grab the container and drink the spiked liquid.  
  
Finishing it off, the pale boy glanced up, catching Ron and Harry staring at him. "What are you smiling about, Potter?" he snarled, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.  
  
Harry simply shrugged as Ron coughed, trying to choke back his laughter. At the front of the room, Snape was prowling back and forth in front of the class, peering into their cauldrons in a dissatisfied manner.  
  
"Remember, Aging Potion can only be consumed alone. When mixed with food or drink, it tends to have. . . adverse effects." Ron had looked up sharply, meeting Snape's dark gaze. "There are the usual ones, of course. . . abdominal pain, paralysis, death," he continued in an offhand manner. At this, Ron had gone so pale his freckles stood out like dots of paint. Harry glanced over at Malfoy. He was muttering something to Goyle, smirking. Nothing seemed to be wrong. Snape continued: "However, the most common reaction is." he was interrupted by a bellow of shock from Crabbe. The entire class whirled around to look, and there was a dead silence, followed by a tumultuous burst of shrieks and laughter.  
  
Sitting in the midst of a pile of dark robes was an adorable, pale blonde toddler. Luminous silvery eyes fringed with long lashes looked out at the class as he giggled right along with them, apparently finding the whole situation a great joke.  
  
". . .A reversal of the aging process." The Potions Master finished, looking wholly unamused. Ron and Harry cringed down slightly at their seats as Snape strode up the aisle, eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. As his gaze traveled slowly from the smiling three-year-old Draco to the dropped flask on the floor to the nervous pair of Gryffindor boys, he spoke two words in a soft, dangerous voice. "Outside. Now."  
  
Harry and Ron gulped, standing up slowly with the eyes of the entire class upon them. Snape spoke over his shoulder as he exited the room: "Bring the child." Ron, having had a younger sister, approached the little blonde boy nervously. He half expected Draco to snarl "Weasley! Get your filthy hands off me!" in a three year old voice. Instead, the child held his arms out to Ron with glee, smiling winningly.  
  
"Up now!" he chirped, waving his chubby fingers. Harry stared, amazed, as Ron lifted the toddler into his arms, wrapping the ridiculously-too-big robes around him like a blanket. The ringing laughter of the Potions class followed them out into the chilly stone corridor, encouraged by Draco's enthusiastically waving 'bye bye'.  
  
Snape rounded on them like an angry panther. "Which one of you boys thought up this. . .amusing little practical joke?" Harry glanced over at Ron. The baby in his arms was tugging on a strand of the tall boy's bright red hair, apparently trying to get some into his mouth. Ron was attempting to hold him at arms' length, apparently not enjoying little Draco any more than the full-grown version. He already had too many 'practical jokes' on his record, taking strongly after the antics of his twin brothers, long since graduated from Hogwarts. Something like this could get Ron expelled, Harry realized with a start.  
  
"It was me, Professor," the dark haired boy muttered, catching Ron's look of deep gratitude out of the corner of his eye. No doubt Snape would take full advantage of his admitting to guilt. Indeed, the Potions Master's eyes flicked from Harry to the toddler in Ron's arms and back again.  
  
"Unfortunately, Mr. Potter, the effects of your little gag are not immediately correctable," Snape said coldly. Harry looked up at him abruptly, rather surprised. The teachers of Hogwarts were usually capable of doing everything from transforming into animals to regrowing bones. "Yes," the professor continued icily, "Speeding up the aging process again could be dangerous to Mr. Malfoy after so soon of a reversal. Not to mention the Aging Potion was used incorrectly." He finished speaking, glaring maliciously at Harry. Being well used to this, the green-eyed boy merely looked back, trying to keep his face blank. Next to him Ron yelped as Draco began to squirm fitfully, whimpering.  
  
Snape's look became a disturbing mix of hatred and triumph as he spoke: "Therefore, Mr. Potter, I entrust the care of young Mr. Malfoy to you. This of course will require you missing your classes for the next day or so . . .without being able to make up any of your work, since Mr. Malfoy is obviously not in a state to learn because of your foolish antics." Harry felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach as Snape placed the child into his arms. Little Draco immediately stopped squirming, snuggling up to Harry and placing a tiny hand on the seventeen-year-old's cheek. "Mine!" he said happily, at which the Harry nearly fell over.  
  
Take care of his worst enemy?  
  
As a three-year-old?  
  
FOR A WHOLE DAY?!  
  
((To be continued.)) 


	2. Bright Silver

Chapter 2 ~ Bright Silver  
  
The door of the dungeon slammed shut with a dull thud, echoing the feeling in Harry Potter's stomach. Ron had whispered a few hurried instructions to him as Snape dragged the redhead back to class, but in his dazed state he hadn't caught anything. Now Harry was alone in the chilly hallway. . . but not really, for little Draco was curled up in his arms, sighing contentedly. The dark haired boy looked down at the top of the toddler's head with something of a panicky feeling. He knew absolutely nothing about taking care of children . . . and what was worse, if anything happened to Draco he would have Lucius to deal with. Harry winced slightly at the thought of the head of the Malfoy household: platinum blonde, sneering, and deadly powerful.  
  
There must be someone who can help me, he thought desperately, glancing around the damp stone corridor. Then it dawned on him: Hagrid. True, Draco wasn't exactly a magical creature, but the three-year-old was about as foreign to Harry as some of the beasts they had studied in the class. He shifted Draco slightly in his arms, trying to wrap the oversized robes around his small form to keep them from dragging on the ground. At this, the pale boy raised his head to grin up at Harry, his expression one of pure adoration. Harry froze, looking down at the little one.  
  
Draco's eyes . . .they weren't a dull grey, as Harry had always assumed. In the flickering light of the torches that lit the dungeon, they shone bright silver. And his expression . . . it was extremely strange. Pure light and love was radiating from the toddler, focused directly at the boy who he never failed to glare at as a seventeen-year-old. Harry's own eyes, a deep jade, widened in shock as Draco reached out with a tiny hand, touching his cheek again. The same gesture as before . . . Harry could still remember the way Draco had claimed ownership of him a few minutes ago. The thought made him smile slightly, which seem to delight the child in his arms.  
  
"C'mon then, Malfoy, let's go see Hagrid," Harry said softly, dearly hoping they wouldn't see anyone in the corridors. The little boy grabbed Harry's face with his other hand, forcing the dark haired boy to look at him and stopping him in his tracks.  
  
"Not Malfoy," the blonde boy corrected smoothly. "Dwaco."  
  
"Draco?" Harry said, surprised at the boy's decisiveness. Even as a three- year-old Malfoy was ordering him around. And that was another thing . . . calling the pale blond boy by his first name was an entirely foreign concept. The blonde had always been 'Malfoy', just as Draco had always sneered 'Potter' in reference to Harry. The use of last names kept them distant, slightly degrading.  
  
The three-year-old grinned, wrapping tiny arms around Harry's neck and hugging him. "Yes, and you Mine."  
  
Harry sighed. This was going to be a rather long day. With all the patience he could muster, he patted Draco's back gently. "No, my name is Harry. Can you say Harry?" He felt utterly ridiculous, like some kindergarten teacher.  
  
The toddler leaned back in his arms so that he looked Harry full in the face. "Yes," Draco said in a tone of voice that sounded like he thought the seventeen-year-old was rather slow. "Harry Mine."  
  
"Close enough," Harry muttered, blushing slightly. He would deal with it later . . . right now he needed to know the basics of caring for babies, and fast. Glancing up and down the hall to see that nobody was coming, Harry headed for the stairs that led to the upper floors.  
  
((To be continued.)) 


	3. Little Angel?

((Hey lookie, it's Chapter Three! (It turned out really long . . . didn't think you'd mind though ^_~) A huge thanks to all my reviewers . . . you guys make my day with your fun comments. I hope you like this one as much as the other chapters, and I will be keeping them coming as fast as my muse will let me. Have fun. ~Solo))  
  
  
  
Harry slunk along the corridors, glancing from side to side. The child in his arms seemed to think this was fun, for Draco giggled softly, still clinging to Harry's neck. The Gryffindor had decided to make for his dorm first, to grab his Invisibility cloak and maybe shrink some clothes for Draco, since he was bound to catch a cold or something in this drafty old castle . . .  
  
He frowned as he ran, arms already aching slightly from the weight of the blond toddler. Where had that thought come from? Since when was Harry concerned about Malfoy's welfare? He shook his head to clear it, causing Draco to release his hold slightly and look up at Harry.  
  
"What wrong, Mine?" he chirped, reaching out a hand and tracing Harry's pouting bottom lip with a tiny fingertip. The seventeen-year-old reached up hastily to remove it, feeling his cheeks flush. Must Malfoy insist on calling him 'Mine'?! It was unnerving, for Merlin's sake!  
  
"Nothing, Draco. Just try to stay quiet until we get to my room, ok?" he replied, patting the child's back softly. Gods, if anyone saw him . . .  
  
It seemed to Harry that they had been walking for hours by the time they reached the portrait-hole that led into Gryffindor Tower. He was exhausted from ducking into empty classrooms and behind suits of armor every time he heard footsteps approaching. Draco, however, seemed quite content in his arms, smiling up at the portrait of the fat lady so angelically that she bent down to coo at him.  
  
"Aww, look at the ickle sweet boy! Hello there, little one!" the painting purred, a beaming smile stretching her plump cheeks. Harry rolled his eyes slightly as the child giggled in return, batting his long lashes. Good gods, even at this age Malfoy was a terrible flirt. It was common knowledge that he had captured the hearts of many a student, female (and male), at Hogwarts . . . Harry's jade eyes glazed over slightly as a memory slid back into his mind . . .  
  
. . . Draco, entering the Great Hall for the first time as a Seventh- year Slytherin. Platinum blonde tresses fell now to his shoulders, gleaming in the light of candles suspended overhead. Tall, ivory-skinned, and slender, he had made his way over to the Slytherin table, full lips in a well-practiced smirk. The Heir of Malfoy Manor moved with the commanding gait of Lucius, yet with a delicate, predatory grace all his own . . .  
  
"You knew damn well that every single person's eyes in that hall were on you, didn't you Malfoy?" Harry muttered under his breath, returning to reality and looking down at his greatest rival. The Slytherin who was well known for the torment of other students was currently blowing a kiss to the fat lady in the pink dress. She was so delighted by his attentions she completely forgot to ask Harry for the password, swinging open obligingly.  
  
"In now," instructed Draco, pointing into the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry was so shocked at the portrait's lack of regard for security he obeyed without thinking, ducking and climbing carefully in so as not to hurt the toddler.  
  
"Take good care of the little angel!" the painting called as she swung shut behind them. Harry snorted at the title given to Malfoy.  
  
"Little angel huh?" he said with a half smile, climbing the stairs to the dorm he shared with Ron and the others. Mercifully, the morning classes hadn't ended yet, allowing him to avoid questioning, for now at least. "More like little dragon, or little devil." Even as the words left his lips he frowned slightly. That was another odd thing . . . Malfoy wasn't acting like he had expected.  
  
Having known the Slytherin for seven years now, Harry was well aware of the cruelties he was capable of. Given this information, wouldn't one assume the actions of Malfoy were a result of being evil since he was a small child? Harry pushed open the door to his dorm, crossing the stone floor and sitting down on his soft bed. He set Malfoy down gently on the cover next to him, leaning back slightly to get a better view of the child.  
  
Harry grudgingly had to agree with the fat lady . . . little Draco wasn't that bad looking of a baby. Maybe even a bit cute, if you disregarded the kind of person he would become. All right, so he was downright gorgeous. The child smiling at him would make a baby modeling agent sign a huge contract in a second. Still draped in ridiculously oversized robes, Draco was sitting quietly, studying Harry in much the same manner as he was looking back. The dark of the fabric only served to highlight perfect ivory skin, smooth and untouched. It put one in mind of newly fallen snow. His hair was shorter, naturally, feathery white wisps falling to his slightly pudgy cheeks. And the eyes . . . not only silver, as Harry had thought. Closer examination revealed shards of deepest blue around the pupil, pure sterling throughout the iris, rimmed with a ring of dark grey.  
  
The dark haired boy was rather puzzled. In his mind's eye, Malfoy had always been nothing but a pointy-faced, sneering git. Yet as a child he had been nothing but affectionate and sweet, always smiling. A suspicion dawned slowly on him. Could something have happened to young Draco to make him as cold and unfeeling as he was in the present?  
  
The child's slight shivering interrupted his thoughts. Gryffindor Tower was rather drafty sometimes, and the dark robes had slipped off one shoulder. Feeling immediately guilty, Harry hopped up, rummaging around in his trunk for something to shrink for Malfoy.  
  
"Sorry 'bout that, Mal . . . I mean, Draco," he corrected himself at a reproachful gaze from the toddler. Harry caught sight of a green sleeve, and pulling at it revealed the green sweater Mrs. Weasley had knitted for him in the Christmas of his fourth year. It was rather perfect, for the image of a black dragon was stitched lovingly onto the front. A black T- shirt to wear under it, and some old blue jeans. . . feeling rather ridiculous, Harry held them up for the child to see.  
  
"How about these?" he said, laying them out on the floor and pulling out his wand. He commanded "Minima," and the garments shrunk down obligingly. Draco clapped with glee, crowing "I wear Harry Mine's clothes!"  
  
Harry, fighting back a fierce blush rather unsuccessfully, handed them to the toddler. "Can you dress yourself, Draco?" At a nod from the blonde boy (and to Harry's immense relief) he sent Draco into the bathroom with instructions to call if he needed help.  
  
When the door had closed with a click, Harry slumped to the floor. Dear god, what next? This day was getting weirder by the minute. He recalled Snape's instructions to meet him in the dungeon after dinner . . . Probably to tell him he was doing everything wrong and sentence him to a bloody death, Harry thought glumly. A sound from inside the bathroom made him pause. Draco was apparently singing to himself . . . Harry couldn't help but smile. He had a few questions about the effects of the potion, would have to wait until he saw Snape. The little dragon would require all of his attention when he emerged, Harry was sure.  
  
Little Dragon?  
  
Where had THAT come from?!  
  
((To be continued . . . see you next chapter!)) 


End file.
